


Excitable Boy

by antisocialhood



Series: So Won't You Dance Under The Sun [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 15 y/o luke, 16 y/o michael, Hand Jobs, M/M, and jerk off, they like watch porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 00:25:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6542899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antisocialhood/pseuds/antisocialhood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke's just become friends with Michael which everyone knows involves video game initiation. But what happens when video games are the complete opposite of what's<br/>playing on screen. </p><p>or, Michael has porn on his television and they jerk off watching it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Excitable Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mukeinruins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukeinruins/gifts).



> literally rat asked for a Luke blurb and I was like 'today I will write!' and I started at 12:13 and it's not 2:34 and I'm exhausted but here it is!
> 
> (also title is from Excitable Boy by Warren Zevon but like there's no correlation BC if you've heard the song it's... wild... and this is nothing like it haha but it fits the situation!)
> 
> hope everyone enjoys!

Luke is 15 years old and he's finally become friends with Michael Clifford. It's an accomplishment in itself; befriending the boy that had made it his job to torment Luke to the point of pulling his hair out. But Michael's nice - once he's decided to accept you as his own - and Calum does seem a little less stressed not having to buffer their arguments (read: Michael's incessant teasing).

All in all its a win, and Luke's happy he's finally able to walk down the bus aisle without Michael attempting to trip him.

"Cal's got a game today." Michael says. He walks alongside Luke through the hallway to the bus lot. The red tie around his neck is loose and the top button is undone. He looks like one of those punks from Saint Matt's that smoke under the bleachers and do burnouts in the middle of the night.

Luke nods. He knows Calum's sports schedule as if it's his own. He'd spent far too many days on the bleachers watching while avoiding Michael. It had worked - for the most part - and Luke's dignity stayed intact. He hadn't ripped any hair out or gotten a wedgie, and really, that was the most important bit.

"Come over. I've just bought Fallout 4."

"And get my ass beaten again?" Luke laughs, shaking his head. He's fairly decent at FIFA, Call of Duty, too. But Fallout - all three of the original games - have proven to be his weakness.

Michael, still not completely over his tormenting Luke stage, only plays FIFA or COD when he's feeling like giving Luke even the slightest challenge - they both know Michael's better at each game but Luke's usually able to give him a run for his money. "Exactly. Practice makes perfect." He winks, elbowing Luke's side playfully.

While the constant bullying had dissipated, the teasing had only amplified. As each day passed, the comments Michael would make only grew worse. Luke was sure it was all good natured - flirty banter even - but it made his lower stomach tingly and tight.

He'd been like this before, only once though when he'd caught a glance of his cousins girlfriend - now ex - breast as her bikini top came undone in the ocean. It had been uncomfortable given the circumstances and thankfully she never noticed his staring, but all the same, his cock definitely perked up in interest.

"Hemmings, for Christ's sake." Michael shoves him forward with a hit to the shoulder, sighing in exasperation.

Luke flushes. They've come to a standstill at the lobby doors. Bus 12 is only a few meters away and Michaels is only a few down. "Yeah, alright." He really shouldn't. Not with this feeling.

Michael rolls his eyes and pushes his fingers through his golden brown mess of hair. It stands on end in some places, wild and unbrushed. He grins. "Text your mum, let her know."

Luke trails after Michael, fishing his phone from his pocket and sending a message to his mum. She replies quickly telling him not to stay too late. Jack will probably pick him up later - for dinner hopefully. It's Tuesday which means pizza and cookie cake.

"All good." He says. Michael shuffles down the aisle past a gaggle of freshman and slides into an empty seat. Luke sits beside him, their shoulders touching and thighs pressed together tightly. His bag is heavy on his lap, weighed down by his textbooks and computer.

The ride is fairly short and Michael doesn't say much, instead choosing to stare out the window. Luke watches him, drinks in his features. From the soft cut of his jaw to the pale expanse of throat exposed from his unbuttoned shirt.

"Mum won't be home until late." Michael says as they get off at his stop. As soon as Luke had been accepted, their parents had all become 'mum' and 'dad'. There were no formalities necessary.

"You mean no carrot sticks and hummus?" Luke teases. Karen, Michael's mum, has been on a health kick for quite a while now and continues to try and impress upon her son the perks of healthy eating.

While Luke would rather a bag of chips and can of coke, hummus is delicious and carrots are a close second. His agreeable attitude to the healthy snacking did earn him a smack upside the head from Michael and Calum's groaning as he crunched on a carrot stick.

"Not today, bud." Michael grins. They walk down the sidewalk and Luke kicks at pebbles. Michael's house is up ahead, red bricked with burgundy shutters and a gray roof. There's an array of flowers sprouting in the front flower beds, bright color against the dark mulch spread beneath the bulbs.

Michael leads Luke up the path. He tells about the messy chalk writing on the driveway - courtesy of Calum and Michael's five year old neighbor, Ella, who's just recently been given a pack of colored chalk. He unlocks the front door and drops his backpack under the coat rack.

"Make yourself comfortable,  
I'll be right up." Michael says. He disappears into the kitchen.

Luke toes his shoes off and leaves them near Michael's backpack. He drops his own there moments later and shuffles across the hardwood floor to the stairs.

The walls are decorated with family photos, most of a younger Michael with missing teeth. His parents wedding picture is just at the top of the stairs. It's the cake cutting photo. Luke definitely sees Michael in younger pictures of his father.

There's a banging sound from  
the kitchen followed by an array of curses. Luke pushes Michael's door open, struggling with the amount of clothes thrown behind it, and lays facedown on the bed. It smells like Michael, like his shampoo and the cologne he sometimes uses.

"Get comfortable doesn't mean sleeping." Michael teases. He closes his door as Luke sits up and moves to drop the bags of popcorn and chips on the bed. He pulls two bottles of soda from his pockets and leaves them on his nightstand.

"Your bed is great." Luke offers. He could definitely nap right now, for a few good hours or so, all wrapped up in Michael's blankets and scent.

The thought itself startles him. He shouldn't be thinking such things when Michael's only a few feet away setting up the game station. His brain has other plans, though.

Michael crawls around, plugging in cords and fumbling with remotes as Luke sits on his bed, heart thudding hard in his chest.

"Oh god." He breathes. It's not news to him, that he likes boys, prefers them. But Michael, tall, cocky, arrogant Michael that's got his ass in the air as he plugs in another cord.

The television screen lights up a bright blue before going black. It lightens to a soft gray, goes black one last time  
and finally resumes the Netflix show it had been on. It's paused mid motion but Luke's sure he can see dick, like naked dick; dick on dick, dick in ass, whatever it is, he can see it.

"Oh god." He says a little louder. Michael grunts and looks back at him.

"What?" He turns to the screen before scrambling for the correct remote. "Fuck!"

It's official, Luke's absolutely done. There's gay porn on Michael's television, Michael fucking Clifford's fucking television. It resumes and Michaels eyes widen, panicky, as he grabs another remote

Luke sits, unable to look away from the screen. It's definitely just dick on dick right now. More like grinding but dick style. Both men are slick with sweat (or maybe it's oil) and well toned. The one man is sitting on the others, hand around both of their cocks and stroking quickly. It sends a rush through Luke's body, a wave of heat that ignites his nerves.

His cock gives a twitch and the television goes black.

"I'm so sorry!" Michael  
won't turn to look at him, his head hung low. It's for the best, really. Luke's cock is definitely interested in what he's just seen - not that he's very surprised - and God, Michael would have a stroke if he saw.

"I- er..." Luke stumbles over his words and Michael finally turns. His gaze isn't directed at Luke's face, instead on his crotch. And really, whose idea was it to make the dress code call for cotton slacks? They do absolutely nothing to hide a half-hard dick and the dark red color just doesn't suit anyone.

Michael gapes. His eyes flicker up to Luke's face. "You -"

"Oh my god." Luke cuts him off. His cock gives another twitch of interest which is almost too much because Michael seems to snap from whatever reverie he'd been in.

"You're fucking hard!" It's not accusatory, more like a factual bit thrown out but Luke still flushes. He doesn't know what to do, does he cover himself with a pillow? His hands? Or does he scramble out of the house and lock himself in his own bedroom until he's ready to face Michael again (read: never).

"It just - it happened!" Luke tries smoothing over the inevitable but his voice is shaky and God, his dick is definitely more than half-mast.

Michael seems beside himself as he nods. He licks his lips, wetting them as he stares at Luke. "You have to... uh... finish." And Michaels staring harder now. "I can turn it back on, if you want."

And Luke does want. His cock is hard and Michael's watching him so carefully, probably trying to judge his next move. It's almost like he wants to watch Luke get off, which is totally silly because Michael isn't... gay.

But the fact of the matter is, there's gay porn on his television. Paused but still there. He'd watched it, was watching it, enjoying himself or whatever.

"Um." Luke says. He can't just whip it out when only his family has seen him naked. He's not confident enough for that. He still has baby fat, and his muscles aren't like the men in the videos. His cock is still small, and like, he's usually not this worrisome about it but with Michael's  
offer on the table it's hard to be comfortable pulling his cock out when he's nothing to brag about.

"I'll, uh, I'll do it, too." Michael offers. His cheeks flush as he looks back at the television. He stands, remote in hand, and skirts around the side of the bed before sitting down beside Luke.

The screen lights up, the video still on pause and it's almost a blur. If only it had been like this when Michael had turned it on the first time.

"Okay." Luke finally says. They're friends now, this should be... okay. Michael's only sixteen, it's not like he's going to be impressive either.

Luke undoes the button of his slacks and pulls the zipper down. His boxers do absolutely nothing to disguise his hard cock. His breath hitches as he pulls the elastic waistband down around the base of his cock.

He doesn't miss Michael sucking in a sharp breath but chooses to ignore it. His cock is flushed pink over the otherwise creamy pale skin, and the tip is slick with pre-cum.

"Your turn." It comes out as a whisper, timid.

Michael nods but makes no move to remove his pants. His gaze is on Luke's cock. "Um." Michael says, finally meeting Luke's eyes. He nods again and grabs the remote.

The video starts playing, a flurry of hands and groping. Luke squeezes the base of his cock and shivers.

A hand snakes down between the man on top and he soon groans, head rolling back as his hips go, too. Luke looks over at Michael. He's unbuttoned his shirt a bit more - enough that Luke has caught a bit of pale skin - and the button of his pants.

He spreads his legs and finally pulls his cock out over the band of his boxers. Luke's feeble hope of Michael's cock being similar in length is shot down rather quickly.

The men on screen groan  
and there's a wet sound followed by a throaty moan. The man on top rolls his hips down quickly, cock brushing against the one on the bottoms stomach, spreading around a slick trail of pre-cum.

Luke strokes his cock slowly. It's uncomfortable. His hand isn't wet enough. He looks at Michael before spitting in his palm and stroking up his cock once again, faster this time.

"Fuck, Luke." Michael watches with wide eyes. There's no shame in his as his hand moves quickly along his dick. Pre-cum dribbles from the tip and Luke stares. The video is nothing more then an extra soundtrack to their wanking session.

Michael chews on his bottom lip and throws his head back, stroking quicker. His rolls his hips up to meet each stroke down. Luke attempts to mimic him - clumsily at that - but he can't roll his hips like Michael, can't get into a pattern that's comfortable.

The lack of knowledge doesn't slow Luke down. He strokes his cock and slides his thumb over the head. As he looks at the television the man on top comes, body heaving forward as he paints streaks on his stomach and the man beneath him.

Luke chokes on a noise, a strangled garble of Michaels name he thinks, and comes, toes curling in and legs tightening. He can hear Michael cursing, but his body is rocked in waves of pleasure that are almost overwhelming.

"Fuck, Luke, that was so -" Michael cuts off and moans. Luke can't bring himself to open his eyes, or catch his breath and will his heart to slow.

The video pauses, if the lack of noise is anything to go by, and all that is heard is their heavy panting.

"Luke?" Michael finally says. He sounds out of breath, weary too. "Are you okay?"

It's not what he'd expected to hear from Michaels mouth. "Yeah." He breathes. Michael is laying on his side watching Luke carefully when he opens his eyes. "I'm... good."

And Michael smiles. Its a friendly one, something more than what he usually gives and something better than the cocky smirk he used to share. "I'm not, like, yanno,  
into guys like that."

"Like what?"

Michael shrugs. "All muscled and shit," He eyes Luke up,  
his flushed cheeks and his cock. "I like... small, twinky, yanno?"

Me. Luke thinks. He doesn't say it though, there's no reason to make it awkward. "Yeah," He says instead. "Someone like Calum."

**Author's Note:**

> leave some feedback!


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